


Death Is Not the Worst

by EnthusiasticFish



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, NCIS
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnthusiasticFish/pseuds/EnthusiasticFish
Summary: Tim is having a crisis, and of course, Death knows about it. It's leading Tim to where he shouldn't be going, and Death doesn't want to deal with a premature death. So he gets involved. It's a kind of strange darkly humorous/angsty story.
Kudos: 8





	Death Is Not the Worst

**Death Is Not the Worst  
** by Enthusiastic Fish

" _Death is not the worst; rather, in vain  
_ _To wish for death, and not to compass it."  
_ _~Sophocles_

Albert could sense that this was not a good time for his master. He didn't like when the master became pensive. The last time this had happened, he had quit and Albert had been stuck with that ridiculous upstart. Sure, he had claimed it was a day off, but that hadn't been it. All in all, he was hoping that this would pass soon.

He ventured into the study.

"Sir?"

His master was sitting at his desk, staring at a timer.

"There's still a lot of time left in that one," he said, trying to sound bracing.

NOT IF HE DOES WHAT HE IS READY TO DO.

"Well, he obviously doesn't do that, since the timer has..." He trailed off when the sand level noticeably dropped. "Oh."

I HAVE THINGS TO DO, ALBERT.

"Sir..."

He was pinned with a glare that shouldn't be possible, given that his master didn't have any eyes with which to glare.

YOU HAVE THINGS TO DO, ALBERT. DO YOU NOT?

"Uh, yes. I do."

Albert hurried out of the study. Even though the alternative was worse, sometimes, it was hard being Death's servant.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Death stared long and hard at the timer. He did not like it when people changed their timers. It happened on occasion, and it was not right, but as soon as it happened, it was the way it should be.

Until then, however, there was time to change it.

He wasn't supposed to do things like this, but he had in the past. It had always worked out. ...even if the world had occasionally ended, briefly.

He looked at the name on the timer.

_TIM MCGEE_

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim was not happy.

Hah. That was so far out of the realm of how he felt that he might as well have not thought anything at all.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking right now, but he knew that he didn't want any company, any help or any saving. All he wanted was to get away.

From everything.

He got in his car and drove and drove and drove. He stopped at the ocean and walked out to the water. Then, he sat down on the shore. This wouldn't have mattered, but it was currently winter. It was cold, even here. He could just stay here and every decision would be taken away. That sounded good.

SITTING HERE SEEMS LIKE A BAD PLAN.

The voice sounded strange. Tim turned and looked and he didn't know why, but for just a moment, he could have sworn he was looking at a seven-foot-tall skeleton...wearing a cape.

That was ridiculous. The man was just really tall and...skinny.

"Excuse me?"

I DON'T BELIEVE THAT YOUR EARS ARE MALFUNCTIONING. YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID QUITE EASILY.

"What business is it of yours?" Tim asked.

EVERYONE'S BUSINESS IS MY BUSINESS.

"Who are you, then? God? If so, I don't want to talk to you."

I AM NOT GOD.

Tim just rolled his eyes and turned back to the wild waves of the ocean.

WHY WOULD YOU SIT HERE ON THE BEACH? YOU MUST KNOW WHAT THE END RESULT WILL BE.

"Enlighten me," Tim said, bitterly.

DEATH.

"Sounds just fine to me. What's it to you?"

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU WOULD CHOOSE TO SHORTEN YOUR TIME. IS YOUR LIFE NOT SHORT ENOUGH AS IT IS? HUMANS LIVE ONLY A BLINK OF AN EYE...A BLINK OF THE EYE OF A'TUIN, ANYWAY. WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO SHORTEN IT STILL FURTHER?

"Humans?" Tim asked. The voice was still very strange. He turned to the man beside him. He blinked.

Then, he blinked again.

It was getting harder and harder to keep this man looking like a man. His brain kept insisting that he was seeing a skeleton wearing a cape even though the rest of him really wanted it to be a tall, skinny man.

"Who are you?" he asked.

DEATH.

"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything to say to that. His brain was triumphantly declaring that he was looking at a talking skeleton. Tim wondered just how cold he was. Could he really be hallucinating already? He hadn't been out here _that_ long...but this skeleton was here...talking to him.

Then, Death sat down beside him on the sand. That was also very very strange.

YOU HUMANS ARE SO STRANGE. He pulled out what looked like a miniature hourglass. YOU HAVE ALL THIS TIME AND YOU ARE WASTING IT. AND YET, OTHERS... He pulled out another one that looked like a glassblower had the hiccups while making it. ...OTHERS HAVE DEVOTED SO MUCH TIME TO AVOIDING ME THAT EVEN I HAVE DIFFICULTY DISCERNING WHEN HIS TIME WILL COME.

"Wait a minute. That's my life?" Tim asked, pointing to the first hourglass.

YES.

"There's still a lot of sand in there."

YES.

"So I don't die here?"

THAT REMAINS TO BE SEEN.

It didn't sound so bad to Tim, but he was suddenly very curious about that other hourglass. He wasn't sure why the fact that he was having a conversation with Death wasn't troubling him more.

"Who does _that_ one belong to?"

ONE WHO IS ALMOST A HUMAN BEING. AT TIMES, HE EVEN SUCCEEDS AT BEING A HUMAN BEING. HE IS A WIZARD NAMED RINCEWIND. HE HAS THE LUGGAGE WHICH IS NOT ALIVE BUT FOLLOWS HIM REGARDLESS, NO MATTER WHERE HE ENDS UP. HIS LIFE HAS BEEN...INTERESTING. HE HAS BEEN EVERYWHERE, EVEN IN THIS PLACE.

"Where is he now?"

THAT IS A VERY GOOD QUESTION.

Even Death himself seemed uncertain about that.

"He's a wizard? Wizards aren't real."

PERHAPS NOT HERE, BUT THIS IS NOT THE ONLY UNIVERSE. IT IS, IN FACT, A MULTIVERSE, AND YOU EXIST IN BUT ONE PART.

An almost-foreign feeling of curiosity enveloped him. He hadn't felt interested in _anything_ for a long time, and yet, this possible hallucination (jury was still out on that) of Death as a skeleton had made him interested in something.

"How do you get from one place to another, then?"

He could have sworn that the skeleton grinned. Of course, skeletons didn't really have any other option, but in spite of the fact that he only had one possible expression, it seemed genuine.

I AM DEATH. WHERE LIFE IS, SO AM I.

"Aren't you more where life _isn't_?"

NO. I AM WHERE LIFE IS. LIFE CANNOT CONTINUE WITHOUT DEATH. DEATH ARRIVES TO CONDUCT LIFE OUT.

"But how do you get to wherever you need to be?"

BINKY.

"What?"

BINKY. MY HORSE.

"Death's horse is named Binky?"

IS THAT A PROBLEM?

"Uh...no."

GOOD. HE WILL GET ANYWHERE. HE IS VERY GOOD AT IT.

Tim nodded quickly, not wanting to irritate Death, but he was still wondering about this strange visit. Death was apparently a seven-foot-tall skeleton, who wore a cape and rode a horse named Binky. Even in his wildest moments, Tim couldn't imagine that he'd be able to come up with a hallucination like this. ...but it was so impossible.

"So...why are you _here_ , right _now_? I'm not dead."

NOT YET.

Tim furrowed his brow. "Am I going to die here?"

THAT IS UP TO YOU.

"I have a choice? Even with that sand in the hourglass?"

YES.

"Okay. So why are you here, then?"

TO TELL YOU TO GO HOME AND GET WARM.

The furrow deepened. "Wait. Let me get this straight. I came out here, wondering if I wanted to live or die and Death is here telling me to live?"

THAT WOULD BE AN ACCURATE SUMMARY, YES.

"Why? Your job is to kill people."

Death actually seemed rather affronted.

I KILL NO ONE. DEATH IS A PROCESS. I AM MERELY AN ANTHROPOMORPHIZATION OF THAT PROCESS.

"Okay, okay. Why?"

BECAUSE YOU WILL MESS UP MY PAPERWORK IF YOU DIE BEFORE YOU SHOULD.

"Paperwork? Death has paperwork?"

Death grinned. ...or rather, he kept grinning but seemed to be enjoying it a little more.

NOT AS YOU MIGHT KNOW IT, BUT YES. I HAVE PAPERWORK, AND YOU WILL MAKE IT MORE DIFFICULT IF YOU DIE NOW. THIS IS NOT YOUR TIME. I HAVE IT ON THE BEST AUTHORITY.

Tim shivered as a blast of wind howled across the sand, whipping the ocean waves into a frenzy.

"Whose? Gibbs'?"

EVEN LEROY JETHRO GIBBS MUST BOW TO DEATH IN THE END.

"I guess so."

I KNOW SO. YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE. YOU SHOULD NOT DIE. YOU WILL BE MAKING A MISTAKE YOU CANNOT CORRECT IF YOU DO NOT CHANGE YOUR MIND.

"Mistakes I can't correct...at least, I'd be the only one who suffers from them," Tim said.

I AM NOT HUMAN, BUT I UNDERSTAND THE HUMAN FRAILTY OF SADNESS. I HAVE FELT IT ON OCCASION. IT IS UNPLEASANT, BUT YOU ARE CLOUDING YOUR MIND WITH INACCURACIES IF YOU BELIEVE THAT NONE WILL SUFFER FROM YOUR DEATH.

Suddenly, Tim had to know something. He turned and faced Death directly.

"What happens?"

Thankfully, Death didn't pretend not to understand his question.

THAT DEPENDS. YOU WILL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL YOU DIE TO KNOW.

"What about Kate? What happened to her?"

KATE DIED.

"Yes, but what about after that?"

YOU WILL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL YOU DIE TO KNOW.

Tim sighed and sank back down onto the sand. He shivered again.

"I feel alone," he said softly. "I feel like I've pushed everyone so far away that I can't possibly ever get close to them again. I feel like the people who matter most are all gone or are leaving me behind. I feel like this world is just a big mass of contradictions that can't possibly make any sense, so what's the point in trying to get through them?"

IS THAT NOT REASON IN AND OF ITSELF?

"What do you mean?"

WHY WOULD THE WORLD HAVE TO MAKE SENSE? IS IT NOT MORE INTERESTING WHEN THERE ARE MYSTERIES TO DISCOVER? THAT IS WHAT I HAVE SEEN WITH MANY HUMANS.

"I guess, but not like this."

I DO NOT HAVE FEELINGS. THAT REQUIRES GLANDS AND I HAVE NONE, BUT YOUR FEELINGS ARE VERY UNLIKELY TO BE ACCURATE IN THIS SITUATION. YOU ARE THINKING ONLY OF THE BAD THINGS AS A WAY OF JUSTIFYING YOUR DECISION. THIS IS FOOLISH.

Tim shivered more.

YOU ARE VERY COLD.

"Yeah."

THIS IS NOT WHERE YOUR LIFE SHOULD END, WHETHER YOU WANT IT TO OR NOT.

"Did you stop for Emily Dickinson?" Tim asked, his head feeling a bit fuzzy.

YES. SHE DID STOP FOR DEATH IN THE END. ALL DO. OR ALMOST ALL.

"So you know 19th-century poets?"

I KNOW EVERYONE.

"And you know me."

YES.

"So what makes me important enough to come and talk to me personally?"

YOU ARE ALIVE.

"But I'm just a regular guy. I'm not powerful or important at all."

YOU ARE ALIVE. THAT IS WHY YOU ARE IMPORTANT.

Tim was starting to feel numb. He wasn't even sure he could get up.

"So if I die, then, I won't matter?"

YOU WILL NOT _BE_ MATTER. YOU WILL BE SOMETHING ELSE.

"That's not what I asked."

IT IS WHAT I ANSWERED.

"You're h-h-h-hard to talk to."

I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT BEFORE.

Tim suddenly thought he heard something else. He tried to turn, but he was so cold and so shivery that he couldn't seem to control his own body.

"What's that sound? Is it Binky?"

NO. IF YOU WISH TO DIE NOW, YOU WILL HAVE TO RUN AWAY.

"I don't think I can even w-w-walk."

GOOD. YOU WILL HAVE TO WAIT FOR RESCUE.

"Who'd be rescuing m-m-me? N-N-No one even knows where I am. I didn't know where I was g-g-going."

FORTUNATELY, YOU HAVE PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU MORE CLOSELY THAN YOU THINK.

"So...you're leaving?"

YOU HAVE NO NEED OF DEATH.

"What if I do?"

WHEN YOU DO, I WILL BE THERE.

"For some r-r-reason, that's almost comforting."

Death grinned...still.

FAREWELL, TIMOTHY MCGEE.

"Tim! Tim, is that you?"

"Won't a seven-f-f-foot-tall s-s-skeleton look weird?"

THEY WILL NOT SEE ME.

"Y-You're kind of obvious."

MOST DO NOT KNOW HOW TO SEE. THEY ARE NOT DYING. THEY WILL NOT SEE ME. FAREWELL.

Tim watched as the skeleton climbed onto a larger-than-life, realer-than-real white horse and then vanished from his sight.

"Tim!"

Warm hands grabbed him.

"Tim, what are you doing out here? Are you out of your mind?"

"Maybe. Did you guys s-s-s-see the skeleton?"

"Ducky..."

"He's definitely hypothermic. Let's just get him into a car and warmed up. Questions can wait until later."

Tim couldn't seem to focus on anyone. He could hear them. They were clear enough and he knew who they were, but he couldn't seem to see them. Strange when Death had been so clear and easy to see...once he'd accepted the whole skeleton thing, anyway.

He was lifted off the cold, wet sand and nearly carried to another place. It was a lot warmer.

"It's...h-h-hot in here."

"That's because you're so cold, Probie. What were you thinking? We've been looking for you everywhere."

Tim was content to let other people do everything for him. It was easier than trying to move. He canted to the left and was supported by someone.

"D-Did you see...Death?"

"Uh...no. Did you?"

"H-He said that I would m-m-mess up his paperwork if I died."

"Were trying to?"

"H-Hadn't...decided...yet."

"Why, Tim?"

"It...s-s-seemed like a valid option."

"It's not."

"That's what D-Death said. He s-s-said it wasn't the right time."

"Good. Then, we'll get to you a hospital."

"Okay."

"Tim..."

"I d-d-didn't want to be...alone anymore."

"You weren't. You never were."

"Felt like it."

After a while, he was too tired to keep listening. He'd already lost the battle to see. Staying conscious was too hard. He sagged down lower and let himself sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Sound came back, first. Everything seemed really loud, but he noticed that he was a lot warmer than he had been before. He struggled to open his eyes and was relieved that it worked. The lights were low in the room, but he could see.

He shifted around, trying to sit up.

"Tim! You're awake!"

Tim looked around and saw Tony sitting by him.

"Gibbs just left to get coffee. How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Tim said. He wouldn't make eye contact with Tony.

"Then, why were you sitting on the beach, freezing to death? Why would you think that was a good idea?"

Tim shrugged.

"That's not going to cut it, Tim. Not this time."

"I didn't think it was a good idea," Tim said, softly. "I knew it wasn't. It just made more sense than anything else."

"And now?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't know."

"You know what this will mean, don't you."

"Yeah. I know."

"No problems with that?"

Tim chanced looking up.

"If I said I did, would it make any difference?"

Tony actually smiled a little bit.

"No. None."

"Then, I guess I don't have any."

"What about the whole talking to Death thing?" Tony asked.

"What about it? I had hypothermia. I was delusional," Tim said, totally lying. He remembered talking to Death and, as unbelievable as it seemed, it had really happened. In fact, he was glad to know that there would definitely be _someone_ there with him when he died. It made him feel better, even if it made no sense.

"You're saying it didn't really happen?"

Tim looked at Tony. "Are you saying you think it really did?" he asked, turning it back on Tony.

"No, but you seemed pretty convinced."

"Maybe I was. But that was then and this is now."

The door opened and Gibbs came in. He skewered Tim with a look.

"What were you thinking, McGee?"

"That I had to choose between death and being alone forever. Death didn't seem so bad in comparison. There are worse things."

"That's not the choice you have to make," Gibbs said.

"Felt like it was."

Gibbs sat down. "You can't just leave here, you know."

"I know. Maybe it'll help."

"It will."

Tim looked up. "I'm kind of tired, Boss."

"Then, sleep, but you're not dying, Tim."

"I know."

It was true. He did know. Death had told him so.

Tim leaned back and closed his eyes. It was easy to go to sleep because he wasn't alone now, and he knew that, even when it was time to die, someone would be there with him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The home of Death was a place without time. Things never changed here. Well, almost nothing ever changed.

Death stood, staring at his field of wheat. Was that one stalk slightly taller than it had been? Perhaps.

He pulled out the timer and looked at it. The sand was back to its rightful level.

GOOD.

Then, he looked at the other timer. Perhaps it was time to give a look in at Rincewind. It had been a while.

ALBERT, YOU CAN STOP THINKING WHAT YOU ARE THINKING.

Albert came out of his hiding place.

"Thinking? I wasn't thinking anything."

YOU WERE, BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO ANY LONGER.

"Where are you off to, now?"

TO RINCEWIND.

"Is he dying?"

EVERYONE IS ALWAYS DYING. HE IS JUST TAKING LONGER THAN USUAL.

"I thought he was a professor. Tenured, even!" Albert said with a bit of a sniff at how far wizardry had fallen.

RINCEWIND IS NOT THE KIND OF PERSON WHO WILL LONG STAY IN ANY ONE PLACE, NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE WANTS TO.

"I suppose. Then, why are you visiting him?"

HE NEEDS THE REMINDER.

Death grinned. As always.

Then, he took his cloak of absolute darkness, swirled it around his shoulders and mounted Binky.

"Death shouldn't be able to make mischief," Albert muttered to himself. "It throws things off."

SQUEAK!

Albert look down.

"Keep quiet, will you? Go find some mice caught in traps."

SQUEAK.

"Well, yes, I realize that you don't have to find them, but get out of my hair."

SQUEAK. SQUEAK.

Death of Rats sauntered away.

Albert decided that it was a bad influence.

"It's a bad sign when he lets it exist. Shouldn't be that way. Bad sign."

I HEARD THAT, ALBERT.

Albert grimaced and went back to work.

After all, there were worse things than Death.

Like death.

FINIS!

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that doing a crossover between NCIS and Discworld is very strange, but the idea popped into my head and so I decided to try it. Death has always been my favorite Discworld character, and Tim is my favorite NCIS character. It was fun to put them together in a story. And in the ways of Discworld, there's some humor strangely mixed in with deep angst.


End file.
